


Jealousy is a Green-Eyed Hunter (Part II)

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, Possessive Dean Winchester, Smut, Supernatural smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is jealous after he finds out you brought a strange guy home from the bar. You have words and he makes it clear who you belong to.</p><p>Please read Jealousy is a Green-Eyed Hunter (Part I)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy is a Green-Eyed Hunter (Part II)

Dean was out the door before you could so much as move. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and quell the arousal flowing through your veins.

“Damn it, Winchester,” you muttered as you crossed to the bed and threw yourself down it, one arm over your eyes. Not only had he come in here and basically claimed you as his, but he’d also managed to make you hot and horny. Then he’d just disappeared, leaving your mind and body reeling. You were going to kill him.

You laid on the bed for quite a while, trying to bring yourself under control.  A knock at the door pulled you from your fantasies of killing Dean, slowly and painfully.

“Just a minute,” you yelled, grabbing a t-shirt and jeans and rapidly pulling them on. You figured it was Dean, coming to mess with your head some more. It would be a lot harder for him to do that if you were fully clothed.

You yanked the door opened, ready to fill Dean’s ear with all kinds of expletives after what he’d done. Instead, you found Sam leaning against the doorjamb, a grin on his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. “Dean wants to know if you’re ready?”

“Ready?” you mumbled, confused.

“Yeah, to go,” he added. “We’re moving on. Dean found a case one state over, so we’re taking off.” He pointed over his shoulder to his brother sitting in the Impala, windows down, an AC/DC song blaring from the cassette player. He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and grinning at you.

You rolled your eyes at the eldest Winchester before turning to Sam. “Tell him I need a few minutes,” you said. Sam nodded and you shoved the door closed with your foot as you hurried to throw your things into your suitcase. It took you less than ten minutes to get all of your stuff together and then you were pulling the motel room door closed behind you. You threw your stuff in the Impala’s open trunk and climbed in the back seat.

Dean watched you in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot, that damn smug grin still on his face. You tried your best to ignore him. It wasn’t long before the big black gas guzzler was barreling down the road, cruising just over the speed limit, the windows down, classic rock resonating through the car. You laid your head against the seat and closed your eyes.

Sam turned in his seat to look at you. “Tired, Y/N?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s exhausted,” Dean spoke for you. “She probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Did you, Y/N?” His green eyes shot daggers at you as he drove, flipping back and forth between the road and the mirror.

“Dean!” Sam hissed. He looked apologetically at you over the back seat. “Sorry,” he mouthed, obviously apologizing for his brother’s behavior.

“What are you sorry for, Sammy?” Dean grumbled. “You aren’t the one who brought some guy home from the bar last night.”

“Dean, that’s not really any of our business….” Sam started to say.

“Oh, it’s my business,” Dean cut him off. “I’m making it my business.” His eyes flashed in the mirror as he stared at you.

“I’m a grown woman, Dean,” you snapped. “I can do what - or who - ever I want. And you can’t say shit about it. You don’t own me.”

Dean’s mouth tightened into a tight line. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something like “we’ll see about that” under his breath, but you weren’t sure.

You decided to keep your mouth shut. Dean was obviously still upset about your one night stand with Clark Kent, the jealousy clear on his face every time he looked at you. You reached into the backpack sitting beside you and pulled out your sunglasses. You put them on, hiding your eyes from Dean’s, hoping to ease some of the obvious tension in the enclosed space. It seemed to work, because the rest of the drive was relatively snark free, if not tension free.

It took nearly the entire day to drive to your next destination, the sun long gone by the time Dean parked in front of the small motel, midnight coming far sooner than any of you had anticipated. Dean stepped from the car, twisting and turning, stretching his aching muscles, while Sam merely pushed open the passenger door and turned so his long legs were stretched out in front of him.

You were pulling yourself up from a prone position on the back seat just as Dean pulled open the motel office door and stepped up to the counter. You leaned your arms on the seat in front of you and stared at the muscular hunter as he waited. When he stretched his arms above his head, his shirt pulled up just enough so you could see skin above the waistband of his pants, your breath caught in your throat. You sighed audibly.

Sam glanced over at you, a slight grin on his face. “Could you not drool over my brother? It’s gross,” he chuckled.

You returned his grin. “That obvious, huh?” you asked.

“Um, yeah,” he agreed. “And awkward. What the hell is going on with you two?”

You shrugged. “I guess he doesn’t like the fact that I brought that guy home last night.” You weren’t sure how much Sam knew, so you were treading carefully.

“You guess?” Sam laughed. “Yeah, he didn’t like it. Jealous as hell in fact. He paced around our room most of the night, sticking his head out the door every hour to see if that guy’s car was still there, grumbling under his breath. I’m pretty sure there’s a hole in the wall by the door in that motel room, too, thanks to a couple of ill-placed punches.” He leaned his head next to yours on the seat. “He’s pissed, Y/N. In his head, you belong to him.”

“He never said anything…” you murmured.

“It’s Dean,” Sam replied. “What else do you expect?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your head spinning with this new information.

Sam patted your hand and stepped out into the parking lot, stretching as he did. You crawled out of the Impala just as Dean was returning from the office and when you stood up, he was right in front of you. You stumbled slightly and he took your arm to steady you. He moved his hand to your waist, squeezing it gently as he slipped your room key into your hand. He leaned over and pressed his mouth to your ear.

“Don’t go to sleep,” he whispered, leaving you standing by the open trunk of his car as he made his way to the room he was sharing with Sam, winking at you as he walked backwards for several steps, his laughter following him as the door closed behind him.

You tried to take a deep breath and think past the heat pooling in your stomach just from Dean’s words, but it was proving very difficult. You yanked your suitcase from the trunk, slammed it and hurried to your room, several doors down from Sam and Dean’s.

Once you were inside, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You tossed your suitcase to the floor before pacing in small, tight circles for several minutes. It was during one of those circles that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the back of the door. You cringed, then hurried to grab your toiletries from your bag. You looked like you’d been in a car for eighteen plus hours and you probably smelled like it too. There was no way you were going to let Dean near you in the condition you were in.

You managed to not only shower, but dry your wet hair as well, and Dean had still not come to your room. You were starting to think maybe he’d just been messing with you. You pulled on your favorite pair of red underwear and a too short tank top, still hopeful he would show up. You busied yourself cleaning up the aftermath of your shower, brushing your teeth and just basically trying to stay busy.

You’d just run out of things to do when there was a quiet knock on the door. You pulled aside the curtain to look outside. Dean stood at the door, running his hand over the back of his neck repeatedly. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous.

You pulled the door open, using it to shield yourself from any prying eyes that might possibly be driving by at nearly one in the morning, only your head peeking around the edge. Dean stepped over the threshold, spun around and closed the door, snapping the lock and then the chain into place. Only then did he look at you, his eyes sliding  up and down your body, appraising every inch, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You look fucking amazing,” he growled, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you against him. He captured your lips in his, the kiss hungry and needy. “I am going to make you forget that guy from last night ever existed. You’ll be screaming my name and you’ll know that you are mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately, especially when it came to Dean. You returned the kiss, your hands threading through his short hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down your body until he was cupping your ass and with one tug he pulled you so tight against him, you could feel every muscle moving and tensing under the layers of clothes he wore. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pushing the thick flannel off of his shoulders and down his arms until it hit the floor, then your hand slid up underneath his t-shirt. You sighed as your hands moved over his warm skin, excited that you were finally able to touch Dean in a way you had only dreamed of.

Dean pulled away and hurriedly yanked off his t-shirt, tossing it aside, then he grabbed the bottom of your tank top and it soon joined his shirt on the floor. His mouth returned to its exploration of yours, his kisses gentle, yet determined. His hand twisted in your tiny red underwear, causing it to rub deliciously against your warm center. You moaned, involuntarily digging your nails into his scalp.

He ran his fingers over your damp panties, massaging you through the cloth, your knees weakening with every touch. His hands were everywhere, touching you in every way imaginable, until you were writhing in his arms.

Dean broke away, panting. “Bed, now,” he ordered, pushing you in that direction as he kicked off his boots and fumbled with the button and zipper on his low-slung jeans.

You walked backward, staring at Dean as he stalked toward you, a hungry look in his eyes. His jeans now hung so low on his waist you were able to follow the lines of his abdomen that formed a v, disappearing beneath his clothes. Your knees hit the bed and then Dean was on you, pulling you under him, his hips nestled between your legs, his obvious arousal pressing into you. You squirmed, desperate for some kind of friction, the need for Dean now running rampant through your body.

“Dean…” you moaned.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tongue ghosting over your body, moving from the sensitive skin just under your ear, down your neck, across your collarbones, and down your chest until he took your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the nipple before nipping at it lightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat and your body thrummed excitedly from the vibrations it sent rippling through you. You arched your back, pressing your body against his and he responded, his hips grinding against yours, finally delivering some of the friction you were so desperately craving.

You slid your hand between the two of you, rubbing his cock through his jeans. Dean growled, his eyes closed, his jaw going slack as you worked your hand inside his jeans and moved it slowly up and down his considerable length. His hand drifted down your stomach and past the red panties until he was able to slip a finger between your folds, his thumb pressed against your clit.

“So ready for me,” he murmured quietly as he nibbled at your earlobe, slowly pumping his finger in and out of your wet heat. “You’re mine now, aren’t Y/N?” he grunted, as he caressed you. He added a second finger as he sucked a mark into your neck, crooking them just right so that he hit the perfect spot, pressing and probing until you were coming undone, your body on the cusp of release. You moaned, and then you were begging him to finish, to pull you over the edge you were so precariously balanced on.

“Oh, no,” he teased. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come.” He pushed your underwear off, then he stood up and peeled off his jeans. He moved back over you, kissing you, and then he was gently entering you, moving agonizingly slow.

Your nails scratched at him, silently urging him to move, your hips rising to meet his, but he seemed determined to draw it out, to take his time. He moved, each thrust gradually pushing him deeper and deeper inside you, an inch at a time, until you were burning with desire, not sure you could hold on much longer. Then with one final thrust and a deep growl, Dean was fully seated inside you and he was kissing you, overwhelming you with the sheer amount of sensations he was causing you to feel. He pulled your legs around his waist and then he was rocking into you, harder and deeper than you’d ever thought possible. He broke off the kiss and buried his face in your hair as the two of you moved, matching each other thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together like magic.

You whimpered as each movement hit you in the perfect spot and then you were falling, drowning in the pure ecstasy that was Dean as your orgasm consumed you, whiting out your vision, heat exploding through your body, every nerve ending on fire. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Dean’s hand snaked down between you and he began rubbing your clit as his movements became more erratic and intense, and then you were coming again, so hard you bit your tongue, Dean’s name a loud scream tearing out of you.

Dean followed right behind you, a satisfied groan falling from his lips, a groan that sounded distinctly like the word ‘mine,’ as he came. He collapsed to the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms. He ran his fingers through your hair as he kissed you, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you mumbled when you finally broke apart. “That was...that was….just...wow.”

Dean chuckled, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He kissed your forehead and tucked your head under his chin, his arms wrapped around you.

You had just started to fall asleep, content in the circle of Dean’s arms, when a muffled snort came from the hunter lying next to you, startling you awake.

“What’s so funny?” you grumbled.

He laughed, the sound deep and sexy. “Guess I’ll be the only guy you bring home from the bar from now on, huh, Y/N?” he asked.

You nodded, smiling against his chest.


End file.
